Chapter Thirty-One
Jarrod had every right to be exhausted. His biological clock still hadn't completely recovered from his overseas voyage...o-or his non-stop, extremely fatiguing, cross-country train ride. And then, of course, there was that little earth moving excursion that he and the Senator had engaged in earlier in the evening---not to mention he and Miss Coopersmith's bed making marathon! So then, the doctor wondered, how he could possibly be generating so much nervous energy? He also worried about where it was all coming from. The pacing, perplexed physician paused in the middle of his dozenth or so trip across the Inn's dining room floor, to pull out his pocket watch. It was well after eleven. The young man decided he'd give the girl one more minute--after which he would go up and drag her down!
Speaking of the delaying Dulcey...
The foot-dragging female suddenly stepped through the curtained doorway to the hall above and gracefully began descending the stairs.
Jarrod noticed that the girl had changed--literally! Dulcey was now dressed entirely in black! From the black boots on her petite little feet--to the black veil covering her pretty little face. The little lady looked so different, in fact, that if it hadn't been for the beautiful blonde hair--which spilled out from under her black bonnet--Jarrod wouldn't have recognized her at all!
"This is what one wears when one is in mourning," the girl explained, seeing the gentleman gazing up at her, and her get-up, in complete confusion, "When one supposedly loses one's dearest friend, one must supposedly dress the part..."
The doctor's look of disappointment turned to one of approval and he extended his right arm to the clever Miss Coopersmith. "Indee-eed!" he jointly concurred with a warm, appreciative smile.
Dulcey took the young man's arm and returned his smile. "I'm all set! Just let me pack some saddle bags for the Senator," she slyly slipped in as they headed towards the back door--and her kitchen.
"Forget it!" the physician advised with a frown.
"But they have a long journey ahead of them!" the little lady in black blurted back, "We can't just send them off without something to eat!"
"They left five minutes ago," Jarrod informed the insistent innkeeper, "And you can stop worrying about the Senator's stomach! Mr. Adams took along enough food to feed an army!"
But Dulcey was determined she was going to feed somebody, "Well...then what about Nurse Edwards and your patient?! Why, the two of them must be starving!"
"You don't have to haul any more foo-ood over to my place!" Jarrod reminded the stubborn little restauranteur, "We carted a whole kitchen full of it over there this morning, remember? There's no room left on my cupboards! Besides, Mrs. Edwards is perfectly capable of taking care of both herself and our pa--"
"She's married?!" Dulcey exclaimed disbelievingly and stopped dead in her tracks.
Jarrod nodded, "At least she was at one time...to a Doctor," he added, and nudged the no-longer-moving girl back into motion.
"I wonder what became of him?" the woman in black wondered, once more applying her brakes.
And--this time--it was the young doctor who stopped dead in his tracks, "I have no idea! You'll have to ask Katelyn. If we ever make it over to my place, that is!" he tacked on, giving vent to his growing annoyance with the foot-dragging Miss Dulcey.
The girl flipped the veil up from off of her face and flashed her escort a look which told him she did not appreciate him using that particular tone of voice on her.
The flustered young fellow's countenance fell and he exhaled an long sigh of frustration. "I'm sorry..." he soothingly assured his pretty, upset companion, "...it's just that...I care about you! That dearest friend of yours is no dummy, you know! The fact that he's worried about your safety has me worried! And you should be, too! Instead, it seems you're concerned with everyone's welfare but your own! Your life may be in danger! Yet, you insist on dilly-dallying! So, if I seem a little on edge...well...how else do you expect me to feel?!" he demanded, the anger and annoyance returning to his voice.
Dulcey didn't answer. She was still in a state of shock. That the doctor liked her was certainly no secret. She had sensed that immediately--the instant they had been introduced. But that he cared for her? Well...that was a real revelation! Surely it was just infatuation! After all, how strong a feeling could you develop for somebody in just one da-ay? The answer came as an even greater shock, as the girl suddenly recalled her first encounter with Marshal Jim Crown! So-o, Jarrod did have feelings for her. Now, the question was--how did she feel towards him?
"I don't want to lose you," the caring young doctor continued, his countenance and his voice softening again. Then he reached out, tenderly took a hold of her arms and drew her closer to him, " 'My hand...and my arms...and my heart are now yours. It is I who am in danger. Should you now not give me the chance to prove true...the word of a tall, dark Stranger. All I ask is for time...and the chance to prove true...the word of a ta-all dark Stranger...' " The 'Stranger's' half-spoken/half-sung words trailed off and he stood there for a few silent moments, staring dreamily down at the 'Lady'.
The 'Lady' stared up at the 'Stranger' in absolute amazement! She was amazed because he had managed to come up with a reply so soon...and because it had been given so...wonderfully...and because it wasn't just a 'reply'. Why, if she understood the poetic young man's words properly--which she felt she did--his 'reply' was tantamount to a proposal...of marriage! She felt herself being drawn closer...and closer...and then, suddenly, Jarrod was kissing her! Dulcey was surprised to find that she did have 'feelings' for him. Even more surprising was how strong those feelings for him turned out to be. For she suddenly found herself kissing him! It was warm...and wonderful...and over all too soon! "Enough dilly-dallying!" Dulcey determined, putting an abrupt end to their embrace. "It's getting awfully late!" And, with that, she latched onto the doctor's left arm and began dragging him towards the door.
A look of extreme disappointment filled the 'Stranger's' handsome face. But then that look gradually gave way to a grin. Doctor Ellis latched onto his medical bag and then allowed himself to be playfully towed away.
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The couple left the Inn and started strolling briskly off down one of Cimarron's dark back streets. As the pair approached a particularly black stretch of boardwalk, they drew even closer to one another and reluctantly slowed their pace.
"Hu-uhh!" Dulcey gasped inwardly as several dark forms suddenly stepped out of the shadows and stood before them--blocking their path.
"What are you trying to do?!" the young doctor demanded, and immediately placed himself between who, or what, ever it was that was out there--and the startled girl, "Scare us half to death?!"
"What are you doing out here?!" one of the unseen intruders demanded right back, "It's almost midnight! It's dangerous to be walking about after dark..." he continued as he and his companions began closing in on the couple.
"Who are you?!" Jarrod wanted to know, "What do you want?!"
But the approaching forms apparently didn't want to answer.
The doctor was about to wrap an arm around the girl's waist and make a run for it, when two of the three dark forms in his face jumped him. He managed to swing his medical bag at them before it was pulled from his hand. They then managed to pin both of his arms behind his back. About all Jarrod had time to do was to 'gasp'--twice! Once in pain, as his arms were wrenched into an unnatural--and extremely uncomfortable--position...and once in frustration! He was frustrated at how quickly--and easily--he'd just been overpowered. Seeing as how resisting only served to help seperate his arms from their sockets, the young doctor stopped struggling and aimed a defiant glare up at the thug who had latched onto Dulcey, "Look! You're welcome to what money I have! Just--please--leave her be!"
But their assailants completely ignored his plea,"Tell the Marshal that if he ever expects to see the girl agai--"
"Tell the Marshal?!" Jarrod shouted, interrupting the unseen ultimatum giver, "What do you mean 'tell the Marshal'?! The man's DEAD! What am I supposed to do for crying out loud--conduct a SEANCE?!"
"Tell the Marshal--" the goon began again, but again was interrupted.
"I told you!" Jarrod told him, "Marshal Crown is DEAD! If your boss wants to get 'in touch' with him--he'll have to find someone else! I'm a Doctor, not some 'gypsy fortuneteller'!"
"That's too bad," Mr. Gordon determined, "because my boss is only giving the Marshal 'til dawn! If Crown isn't in his Office--alone and unarmed--by then..." Gordy paused for dramatic effect, "I promise you...the girl, here, won't live past sun-up!"
Jarrod's blood ran cold and his body went rigid.
The 'girl' let out a 'shriek' of absolute 'horror' and then her body went limp. The goon tightened his grip around Dulcey's waist, which allowed the frightened 'fainting' female to double completely over. For a few fleeting moments in the dark, the couple's heads came close together. And, as they did, Dulcey blurted out--in a barely audible whisper, "They're bluffing! Not one word of this to Jim or--I swear--I'll never speak to you again!"
"O-Oh..." Mr. Gordon added as an afterthought, "...and tell him to make sure he has Mister Mareck's money with him!" And, with that, he and his 'collapsed captive' were go-one!
What was the young doctor to do?! He had no reason to doubt the pretty little lady's threat--er, promise. But then, he had no reason to doubt the bodyguard's threat--er promise, either!
Jarrod's captors waited a full five minutes before finally relinquishing their strangle holds on him.
"Run along now!" the big lug on his left suggested, "And deliver Mister Mareck's message to the Marshal!"
"Like a good little boy!" the third thug tacked on tauntingly and tossed him back his medical bag.
Jarrod wanted to lambaste the both of them with it...only he couldn't make his recently twisted and tortured limbs move. So he just stood there--helplessly--and watched as the disgusting duo drifted off into the darkness, chuckling all the while.
What was he going to do?! If he didn't deliver the message and the bodyguard wasn't bluffing, come da-awn--Dulcey would be dead! And so would he! The moment the Marshal found out that he had failed to give him Mareck's message! He seemed to be trapped in a 'no win' situation. Because--whether or not he did as Dulcey wished--it was beginning to look like their budding relationship would soon be over! Because, either way, Dulcey was never going to speak to him again'!
The flustered physician stood there for a full five more minutes, pacing up and down the planks and racking his brain. The young doctor was desperate! He had to make the right decision! Then, suddenly, Jarrod knew what he had to do! He had to find Francis! Yes sir, and he had to find him fa-ast! After all, dawn was only four or five hours away!
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Doctor Ellis spent nearly two of those precious few hours trying to find his friend. But his search for Francis proved futile. The young deputy was nowhere's to be found. So Jarrod left word around that he was looking for him and then went on home--to his place.
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Katelyn just about had kittens! She had been in the process of wiping the perspiration from her patient's impassive face when--without any warning what-so-ever--a portion of the wall came flying in at her and an anxious looking Doctor Ellis appeared. The rattled nurse retrieved her cool, damp cloth from across the bed, folded it a few times and then tenderly placed it down on the Marshal's fevered brow, "If yer not goin' ta knock," the irate woman informed the frantic-looking young fellow standing at her side, "couldn' you at least stomp yore feet or somethin'?!"
"How is he?!" the obviously somewhat shaken young doctor demanded a bit breathlessly, "Has he been awake at all?!"
"No..." the now worried nurse told him, "Why-y? What are you doin' back here, anyways? Ain' you s'posed ta be spendin' the evenin' elsewhere?"
"I had to come back!" the young doctor declared and began nudging the nosey nurse out of his way, "And he has to wake up! I have something terribly important to tell hi--"
"Tell him anything you want!" Katelyn invited, planting herself between the pushy young physician and her peacefully sleeping patient, "Jes' don't touch 'im!"
"You don't understand!" the doctor declared, "I have to wake him! It's a matter of life and death!"
"All right..." Katelyn conceded, after considering the even more anxious young man's rather urgent decree over for a few moments, "You kin wake 'im. But don't shake 'im!"
Doctor Ellis sighed in surrender and agreed to heed her warning. He had to! If he didn't abide by her terms, he'd never get within waking range! So he obligingly stepped back.
The nurse obligingly stepped aside.
"Marshal?! Marshal, wake up!" Jarrod pleaded.
But the Marshal didn't move.
"You've got to wake up! I've got to talk to you!"
But again the lawman didn't budge. Either he didn't believe--or couldn't hear--his doctor.
Suspecting the latter, the frustrated physician picked his medical bag up from the foot of the bed--where he had dropped it--and began fumbling around for his smelling salts. Having found what he was after, Doctor Ellis set the bag back down and carefully took a seat on the bed beside his, as yet, unresponsive patient, "MARSHAL CROWN!" the physician shouted, pulling the stopper from the little bottle in his left hand and waving it under the lawman's nose, "CAN YOU HEAR ME?!"
The Marshal's impassive face suddenly scrunched up a might and he responded by trying to pull his head away.
"MARSHAL!? WAKE UP!" the young doctor ordered, and proceeded to administer another dose of the vial's vile contents.
Again the unconscious--and still uncooperative-- Marshal's only response was to make a face and then pull away from the bottle's unbelievably pungent and obnoxious odor.
Doctor Ellis gasped in exasperation and then tried for a third time to rouse his apparently comatose patient, "MARECK'S GOT DULCEY! YOU'VE GOT 'TIL DAWN TO TURN YOURSELF IN! IF YOU DON'T SHOW..." the now nearly in tears young man hesitated an instant or two, apparently choking on the words which were yet to come, "...HE'S GOING...to kill her," the young doctor's voice diminished in volume as those dreadful words fell on deaf ears. "PLEA--EASE! YOU'VE GOT TO HEAR ME!" Jarrod pleaded, pulling himself back together again.
But again there came no answer.
Well, Jim Crown may not have heard a single word, but Katelyn sure did! And she had found each and every one of them positively horrifying! What could the doctor possibly hope to accomplish here?! Obviously, the Marshal was in no condition to deal with any of this!
"I CAN'T FIND FRANCIS ANYWHERE!" Jarrod literally cried out--as if in answer to her, "AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO!"
"The Marshal an' this 'Francis' fellow can't be the only men in this town!" the woman said by way of reminder.
"True..." the young physician was forced to concede. "Trouble is, the others don't know what to do, either--" he stopped talking suddenly and watched with eager anticipation as a fourth whiff of the bottle's contents finally caught Jim Crown's attention.
The Marshal's eyes opened for a few fleeting seconds--but failed to focus.
Jarrod began blurting Mister Mareck's message out again, but then stopped. Judging by the blank look he'd just seen in the lawman's eyes, nothing was going to register with him, anyways. The Marshal's team may have finally been 'harnessed'...but there was still no driver in the man's 'buggy'. The doctor shoved the stopper back into the bottle of smelling salts and started getting to his feet, "Have you had a chance to change that dressing on his arm?"
Realizing that the solemn young doctor's words were now directed at her, the extremely nervous nurse dutifully nodded.
"How does the wound look?"
"Uhh-uhh�there's no further sign of infection, if that's what yah mean..." the woman readily replied. "In fact, it's already started ta heal," she added and noted that the young doctor seemed genuinely pleased.
"What about his stitches? They still intact?"
Again the Marshal's nurse nodded.
"How about that hole in his chest?"
"No excessive bleedin'," Katelyn answered competently, "It appears ta be drainin' nicely."
"Goo-ood..." the young doctor determined. Then, apparently satisfied as to the stableness of his patient's condition, he stowed the bottle away, picked his black leather bag back up and turned to leave.
"Where are you goin'?" the woman wondered.
"To find the Marshal's Deputy," Jarrod solemnly replied.
"An' if Francis can't be found...What the-en?" the woman further wondered.
Jarrod caught the nervous edge in the nurse's voice and realized the woman must be fearful for the Marshal's life. So... the two of them had something in common! Doctor Ellis was feeling equally fearful for Miss Dulcey's life. "The-en the rest of us will spend the next three hours trying to think of something. There has to be some way to get the girl out of this mess without putting him in danger!" the good doctor determined suddenly...And then just as suddenly disappeared!
Katelyn latched onto the lawman's limp left hand and then stood there staring blankly back at the wall, behind which Jarrod had just vanished. "Well, then I sure hope some one thinks of it!" the woman whispered fervently and carefully took a seat on the bed beside their still unresponsive patient.
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Speaking of Jim Crown...
The young cowboy was in love--for the very first time in his life! He knew he had to be head-over-heels in love, because he was getting hitched up in the morning...and the thought didn't terrify him. On the contrary, standing there as he was--with his girl's arms wrapped tightly around him--Jim Crown figured he had ta be the LUCKIEST man alive! "I think that's just about the most perfect place to put a house that I ever did see..." he said in Spanish and raised his head up from Koree-Ray-Ohn's shoulder to point out a particularly pretty spot up on a little hill overlooking the creek that flowed through their property--the property Dave Fisher's father was giving them for a wedding present.
Koree studied the spot for a few moments and then turned back to the cowboy, looking both pleased and perplexed, "But...we already have a house," she pointed out.
"No-o," the cowboy corrected, "What we have now is a broken down line shack with a roof that leaks like a sieve when it rains. I'm going to build us a real house, Koree! One with a good roof...and lots of rooms for kids and puppy dogs to ramble around in!"
The happy couple exchanged grins and then embraced again--a long, loving embrace--that ended with a dull 'thu-ud'. Well...actually, it was more of a 'thwa-ack'!
Koree gasped at the sound and pulled ba-ack.
Jim heard Maria scream and spun around in time to see his partner collapse in an unconscious heap on the ground. He took a step or two in his injured friend's direction. However, the rifle--whose butt had just been brought down on the back of Dave's head--now had it's barrel pointed directly at his chest, and the rifle's bearer waved him back.
"Don't move, cowboy!" someone behind him warned in a strange--yet vaguely familiar--voice.
It was that outlaw type from town! And he had three other equally outlaw-looking types with him.
Jim obligingly froze. There was little else he could do, seeing as how they had the three of them covered. Another gun barrel was shoved into the small of his back and somebody pulled the pistol from his holster. "How did you's get here?!"
"Well, now...funny you should ask," the stranger he'd met back in town stated sarcastically as he stepped around to face him, "Since you went ta such great lengths ta make sure that you weren't followed, we had ta go ta some pretty great lengths ourselves ta get here! Seems that nice store-keep lady finally remembered you sayin' somethin' about how you was goin' out ta yore place. Then, a course, we jes' had ta go on over an' convince that little old man at the Land Office that it was in his best interest ta tell us jes' where--exactly--yore place was, Mister...Jim Crown is it?"
"So what if it is?!" Jim Crown wanted to know, "What possible difference would that make?! I've never done anything ta any a' you! I ain't never even seen any of you's before taday!"
The stranger nodded to the man who was holding Koree at gun point. The gunman held the weapon in his hand up to the girl's right temple and then thumbed back it's hammer.
The cowboy caught his breath and his racing heart just about stopped.
"I'll do all the askin' here!" the stranger said rather icily, "An' you'll do all the answerin'! You got that straight?!"
"Yes!" the now completely panic-stricken young cowboy assured all four of the very nasty-looking fellows, "Yes! I got that straight! An' you got my name straight! It's Jim Crown!
The stranger and his companions exchanged excited glances. "An' jes' how, Mister Jim Crown did you manage ta come by that there saddle?" the thug wondered, waving his arm in the direction of Jim's horse.
"I've had it since I was four!" the cowboy answered, "It belonged to my father--Thomas Crown."
The outlaws appeared even more excited by this latest revelation.
"An' can you prove you ARE who you 'say' you are?"
The cowboy hesitated.
The gunman who had his pistol pointed at Koree's head tightened his finger on the weapon's trigger a bit.
Jim stepped wordlessly over to the dropped trunk and then carefully stooped down to open it. He rummaged around in his things for a few moments before finally producing the required proof.
"What is it, Santi?!" the gunman holding Maria inquired excitedly.
Santi took the family Bible that had been passed up to him and then silently perused it. There was a lose page in the front of the book and upon it someone had recorded the cowboy's birth and his family's history. The Bible was engraved with the name of Jim's father, and the tears on the edge of the lose page perfectly matched those protruding from the book's binding. It was pretty good proof. But apparently not goo-ood enough. "Anything else?!"
Jim exhaled an impatient sigh and returned to rummaging in his trunk. The cowboy sighed again--in relief this time--as his hand came up with what he had been seeking--a gold chain bearing a gold medallion.
His interrogator took the object and then stood there, studying it. The medallion was solid gold and there were two crowns emblazened across the front and back of it--two crowns! The name of Thomas Crown's spread! Santi passed a sinister smile around to his friends and then motioned for them to take Jim Crown along.
The cowboy didn't demand to know what was going on. Nor did he struggle as he was thrown onto his horse. And he never even moved a muscle as his wrists were bound to his saddle's horn--very snugly. He didn't protest because there was still a gun pointed at Koree's head!
"What about his girl friend, here?" the gunman wondered as he watched his trio of friends mount their horses. "She's a real beauty, ain' she?! What da yah say we bring her along?!" he suggested and stared lustfully at the beautiful girl standing before him.
The cowboy caught his breath again and quickly glanced around. Instead of five, big, bad smellin' buffalo hunters--it was four, awful, foul smellin' outlaws! And each one had eyes--and 'ideas'--for the girl--HIS girl! "NO-O! Plea-ease!" Jim pleaded, "She's gonna have a baby! Leave her be! She'll jes' slow us down!"
Santi considered the cowboy's plea over for a few moments and then motioned for the remaining member of their grisly group to get on his horse, "The kid's right! She'll slow us down! EITHER way," he shouted to his protesting companions, "She'll just slow us down! Now, c'mon! We got us a 'family reunion' to attend!"
"Stay with Dave and Maria, Koree!" Jim ordered in Spanish as Santi started hauling he and his horse off--to who knew where, "They'll take care of you for me 'til I get back! I'll be back as soon as I can! Koree?! I LOVE YOU!" he shouted back over his shoulder--and the sound of galloping hooves.
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After they had gone what Santi considered a safe distance from San Antone', the group pulled their galloping horses up to give them a breather.
"Where are you takin' me?!" their worried sounding captive wanted to know.
"Ta meet yore GRANDFATHER!" one of the outlaws obligingly answered.
"Yore RICH grandfather!" another chimed in--with a gold-toothed grin.
"Yore VERY rich grandfather!" still another added.
The cowboy's face filled with shock. Jim Crown knew nothing about his father's father. His Uncle Wes' had never spoken of the man, so he'd just naturally assumed that he was...'dea-ead'. "Well, how much further do we got ta go?!" the cowboy wondered, sounding even more worried.
"You ever heard of 'La Hacienda de Dos Coronas'?" Santi wondered back.
The cowboy shook his head no.
So Santi continued, "It's a pretty BIG spread down in the southwest corner of Texas! Belongs to an old English fellah--by the name a' James Crown!"
'James Crown's' face filled with shock again. 'The Two Crowns Ranch,' he translated mentally. Of course! That would explain both the 'brand' on his father's saddle and the 'design' on the medallion! But why had his Uncle Wes' always avoided that particular part of Texas? Why didn't his Uncle ever tell him that he had a grandfather--who was still ALIVE?! What was it about this 'other' James Crown that had made Wesley Thatcher want to keep all knowledge of him from Jim?! It sure seemed odd...And it sure felt odd to think that there was actually another James Crown walking around somewhere--somewhere down in the southwest corner a' Texas to be exa-act! But...that was too far! That was way too far! Why, that was HUNDREDS of miles away! A-And that meant that he would miss his own wedding! The cowboy's face filled with even greater shock and he began working feverishly to free his wrists. It wasn't that he didn't like the 'family reunion' they had planned for him, it was just that--more than anything else in the world--Jim Crown wanted to marry Koree!
"Sit tight, son!" Santi advised their now squirming captive.
But the cowboy couldn't 'sit tight'! The sun was setting! He had to get back! He was getting married in the morning! And--right then--that was the only thing that really mattered to him.
Seeing as how their prisoner completely ignored his advice, the outlaw leaned over and whacked the boy up alongside of the head with the butt of his pistol.
The cowboy winced as a sharp, searing pain shot through his right temple. There was a brilliant explosion of light--closely followed by an enveloping darkness. James Crown the II sank forwards in his saddle and then hung there over the neck of his horse. "Koree...?!" the young man moaned in a whisper. Then--suddenly--the sun set. And--for a little while at least--nothing mattered to Jim anymore.
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Speaking of anymo-ore...
There was no gun pointed at Koree's head anymore, so Jim Crown didn't have to co-operate with his captors--er, KIDNAPPERS anymore! In fact, for the next eleven days of nearly continuous travel, Jim Crown proved to be the most uncooperative captive Carlos Santi and his associates had ever come across.
The cowboy tried every conceivable way to free himself from the four outlaws. And the kid was capable of conceiving some pretty ingenious methods of escape! So that--short of killing him--the four men were forced to use whatever brutal methods they could think of to prevent them from parting company! Bu-ut getting back to the woman he loved--as quickly as possible--and marryin' her--was, once again, the ONLY thing tht Jim Crown really cared about.